


Hollow Ship

by noydb666 (Elynittria)



Category: Red Dwarf
Genre: Alternate Canon, Angst, Multi
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2005-04-08
Updated: 2005-04-07
Packaged: 2017-10-05 11:20:20
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 6
Words: 16,041
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/41212
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Elynittria/pseuds/noydb666
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>An alternate version of "Holoship"</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Chapter 1

Rimmer squirmed uncomfortably on his seat in front of the vid-screen, hoping that his distress, if noticed at all, would be interpreted as physical discomfort rather than the emotional uneasiness it really was. Lister had insisted they all watch a movie while Holly piloted _Starbug_ back to Red Dwarf. Apparently, he felt it would ease the tension among them and help them get along a bit better.

The movie was terrible, in Rimmer's opinion—melodramatic and poorly acted—but it was having an effect on him nonetheless. The theme of searching for and finding perfect love depressed him immensely. He had always hoped against hope that one day he'd find love, but look where he'd ended up: quite dead and quite alone. It was too late for him now.

The music swelled up and the film ended. Rimmer immediately put on a disgusted look and prepared to make fun of the movie and its ideas of love so that no one would know how he really felt. He had honed this technique through his membership in the Love Celibates, and sometimes he could almost fool himself into believing that love—and his lack thereof—didn't matter.

Predictably, Lister was bawling his eyes out over the movie, Kryten found it "uplifting," and Cat was simply confused. It bothered Rimmer that Lister cared so much about fictional characters that he could openly cry about their troubles. Fictional characters, humanity in general, mechanoids, superevolved cats, alternate versions of people he knew—Lister cared about them all. All but a certain Arnold J. Rimmer, second technician, who apparently didn't rate high enough on Lister's scale to be noticed as anything other than an object of ridicule. Rimmer diverted his thoughts from this treacherous path by criticizing the movie and arguing with Lister, only to be told he had no soul. _Of course I have no soul, you gimboid. I'm just a computer simulation—what do you expect?_ But he said nothing, outwardly ignoring Lister's remark.

The beautiful blue lights that invaded Starbug at that point ended the argument in a way Rimmer had never expected, transporting him to a strange ship, the _Enlightenment_, that was crewed entirely by holograms. He felt like he had found heaven.

* * *

The excitement of being able to touch again and to interact with others who were like him was almost too much for Rimmer. He was afraid that it would all vanish in an instant for some horrible reason, just like the last time he had briefly been able to experience touch. He wanted to hang onto this—to be a fully functional human being again and to be an officer on board a prestigious scouting ship—but that meant passing the challenge, which he was well aware he couldn't do on his own.

His thoughts were full of this problem when Nirvanah Crane suggested that he have sex with her for a few hours. Her invitation stunned him and he helplessly stuttered something incoherent as he tried to figure out how to say no. He was terrified of the idea of having sex with a beautiful woman—he had virtually no experience and absolutely no confidence in his abilities. The last thing he wanted was for Nirvanah to laugh at him after discovering how hopelessly awkward he was. But she overrode his excuses and dragged him off to her quarters.

Afterwards, Rimmer felt utterly confused. She hadn't complained about his technique, but neither had she shown any signs of approval. And she hadn't seemed too interested in what they were doing or in what he might be feeling. She simply kept talking about her latest research or going on about how much better _Enlightenment_ and its crew were in comparison with a mining ship such as _Red Dwarf_, and she had deliberately discouraged any talk of deeper emotions or of love. In many ways, it had been as empty and unfulfilling as his other previous experience with sex—but Yvonne at least had the excuse of being concussed, whereas Nirvanah was obviously mentally competent. Or maybe not, he concluded glumly, since she had chosen him as a partner. Nobody with any sense would have willingly done that. Maybe she had only asked him in order to win a bet with someone or, more likely, because she had _lost_ a bet. Still, at least he could tell Lister that he had scored with a really hot officer. Lister might even feel jealous at hearing that bit of news. Hugging that thought to himself as the one positive aspect of the encounter, Rimmer transported back to _Red Dwarf._

* * *

Rimmer had finally come up with a solution to his problem: a mind patch to enable him to at least have a chance of winning the challenge. But Kryten was determined to argue about its illegality, immorality, and dangerousness—as if any of that mattered when weighed against a shot at happiness. "I don't care. I'm prepared to take the chance," he declared.

Lister was incredulous. "Even if it costs you your mind?"

"It's a small price to pay," noted Cat sarcastically.

Rimmer was frustrated that Lister didn't understand. Then again, he never seemed to even try to understand the hell it was being a hologram. "Look, on that ship I can touch, I can feel, I can taste. I'm not a half man any more. With them I'm whole again." _And maybe I'll even find love—or at least real friendship,_ he thought. Even though his initial love making with Nirvanah had been disappointing, he still hoped that they could somehow connect emotionally. Maybe she was the one he'd been searching for all his life. Maybe she just needed a little time to relax and get to know him.

"Rimmer, they're a bunch of arrogant, pompous, emotionally weird, stuck-up megalomaniacs. Do you really think you're going to fit in with them?" Lister paused a moment. "What am I saying? Bon voyage!"

Rimmer sighed. He wouldn't miss the put-downs once he was gone. If he won the challenge, the _Enlightenment_ crew would _have_ to treat him with respect—wouldn't they? At least there was a better chance of that there than on board _Red Dwarf_.

In reply to Kryten's question as to why he wanted to throw in his lot with "people like that," Rimmer tried to explain: "Because I want to _be_ somebody. I want to have a position of authority on a scout ship exploring uncharted space. Work alongside educated men and women. Officers, people who count." He turned to Lister, hoping he'd understand his need for validation by people who his father would have approved of. If they accepted him, it would be as if his father had finally approved of him by proxy. "Lister, this is my one chance to seize my dreams. To be with the winners."

Noticing Lister's unconvinced expression, Rimmer decided to risk revealing some of his deeper, painful feelings, hoping they wouldn't be dismissed or laughed at as usual. "Look at me. What do you see?" he asked solemnly.

Lister shrugged and laughed a bit uncomfortably. "Tell me," he said, secretly hoping that Rimmer wouldn't. The hologram's intensity was getting a little too weird for him, reminding him of the time Rimmer had spilled his soul to him after drinking too much at his death-day party. He hadn't known how to deal with Rimmer's emotions then, and he felt just as uncomfortable now.

"You see a sad and lonely guy. A guy who left home at 16 to become an officer and a gentleman, and ended up as a chicken soup machine operative." Rimmer paused, remembering the disappointment that had been to him and, more importantly, to his family. "Is it any wonder that my father had four strokes? Is it any wonder he used to sit by the window and dribble? _I_ did that to him. Me!"

"Look, there's nothing wrong with what you did," Lister protested mechanically. "It was just a job." It had been his job, too, after all, and Lister didn't think of himself as worthless—he had simply been biding his time until something better came along. He couldn't see why Rimmer didn't look at it like that.

"You _are_ your job," Rimmer declared flatly. None of Kryten's examples swayed him in this conviction. "Kryten," he pointed out, "Albert Einstein didn't spend the best years of his life picking out lumps of desiccated poultry from the end of his nozzle cleaner."

"That doesn't make you a failure," Lister said wearily. He was tired of this conversation and wanted it to be over. Why was Rimmer so fixated on what his job description was? It wasn't as if being something other than a second technician would change his essential nature—he'd still be an anal, irritating, smug, whiny bastard.

"It does in my parents' eyes," Rimmer said forcefully. "It does in my brothers' eyes. It does in the eyes of everyone _with_ eyes. That's _exactly_ what it makes me."

Lister rolled his own eyes. Rimmer's family had probably been even worse smegheads than Rimmer, so he didn't put much stock in their opinions. However, he knew that Rimmer wouldn't listen to him if he tried to object, so he kept his mouth shut.

Kryten decided to try one last avenue of argument. "Sir, I beg you to reconsider. If not for your sanity, why, you haven't even considered the moral implications of your decision. You will be joining a society where you will be compelled to have sex with beautiful, brilliant women twice daily, on demand. Now, am I really the only one here who finds that just a little bit tacky?"

Cat and Lister looked at each other in shock. Rimmer would be getting laid twice a day? Why couldn't they be so lucky?

Kryten looked at them and saw his answer on their faces. "Well, quite clearly I am!" he said, shaking his head in disappointment and leaving the room.

"Rimmer, man, why didn't you just tell us about the sex?" Lister asked. "No wonder you want to join that crew!" Suddenly, it all made sense to Lister.

Rimmer shook his head mutely, disappointed that Lister hadn't accepted his true reasons. Sure, the sex would be nice—at least, he hoped it would be—but that wasn't why he wanted to leave. Knowing that it would be futile to try to explain any further, he exited the room in search of Kryten and the mind patch that would finally give him a real shot at fulfilling his dreams.

* * *

Lister walked slowly down a corridor in _Red Dwarf_ as he headed back to the room in which the posse was interviewing potential new holograms. He wondered how Rimmer was doing, and hoped he'd win the challenge. Lister certainly didn't want to be stuck with the mind-patched version of Rimmer—the original version had been bad enough, but a few seconds with the new "improved" version had irritated the hell out of him. But Kryten knew what he was doing when he picked the minds, so Lister figured the chances were pretty good that they'd soon be Rimmer-free.

Lister's first choice for a new hologram would have been Kochanski, naturally, but he still hadn't been able to locate her personality disc. Maybe Rimmer would tell him now that he was leaving—it was worth asking, at any rate. Of course, Cat and Kryten might have some objections about Kochanski, but he was pretty sure he could persuade them if it came to that.

If he couldn't get Rimmer to hand over Kochanski's disc, then his second choice would be Petersen. However, since he didn't want to impose his choice on the others, he had agreed to go through the farce of interviewing potential candidates. After the others tired of trying to find someone compatible through that method, he intended to suggest Petersen. He was sure Petersen would fit right in. The four of them would have a great time together, just like he, Petersen, Selby, and Chen had back in the old days.

Lister entered the interview room and pulled up a seat. Kryten informed him that the next candidate was a Ms. Harrison. _Hmmm,_ Lister thought as he ogled the hologram that materialized before him. _Perhaps we should bring back a woman rather than Petersen, even if it isn't Krissy_. But then reality came knocking: He wouldn't be able to have sex with a hologram even if she were eager and willing. _Damn! That sucked!_

A few moments later, Rimmer erupted into the room, breathing heavily and with a panic-stricken look on his face. "Kryten! My own mind's come back—you've got to help me!" he exclaimed desperately.

The others stared at Rimmer in surprise as Kryten began discussing the problem with him. Lister couldn't believe Rimmer was back so soon and that they might be stuck with him forever. At the same time, however, the hologram's distraught behavior made him feel a bit sorry for the guy. It was obvious that joining the Enlightenment meant a lot to him. Still, it wasn't as if he could do anything to help Rimmer.

At that point, Rimmer finally noticed the hologram who was still waiting to be interviewed. "Who's this? I'm not even gone and you're choosing my replacement?" That hurt, even though on an intellectual level he knew he should have expected they'd do something like this. Lister's lame explanation, delivered in a tone of exasperated forbearance, only made matters worse. They'd thought he wasn't coming back. What, didn't they think he'd return to pack his things and say goodbye? Couldn't they have waited just a day or even a few hours more so they didn't rub his nose in how glad they were to be rid of him?

Rimmer sighed and replied quietly, "Well you should have known better, shouldn't you? You actually expect something to go right for me? Arnold Schmucko Rimmer? Tosspot by royal appointment?" He gave up even trying to pretend he wasn't upset, and turned his back to them all, walking slowly out of the room. There was only one thing left to do—withdraw from the challenge and return to the loneliness of being the odd man out in a world where he only half-existed.

* * *

On board the _Enlightenment_, Rimmer slumped against the wall of the lift as he headed for the bridge in order to withdraw his challenge. Number One, Natalina Pushkin, entered the lift and gave him an appraising once over. Not bad, she decided. "I hear you're doing very well in the assessment," she said as a conversational opener.

Rimmer's only reply was to mock her intonation.

Unfazed, Natalina went on to her main reason for speaking to him: "Well, listen, if you make it through, maybe you'd like to have sex sometime next week? I'm free Wednesday morning." She was looking forward to trying someone new for sex—the whole crew was, if he won. It got boring having the same choices for partners all the time.

But Rimmer didn't seem too enthusiastic about her offer. "I'm sorry, I'm busy Wednesday. I'm killing myself."

"But there is no reason," Natalina reproved him. "On board _Enlightenment_ everything is perfect. Suicide is not necessary, and besides, sex is good for one's mental health."

Rimmer glared at her. "I won't _be_ on board _Enlightenment_! I'm going to fail the stupid challenge, so I've come back to withdraw."

At last Natalina understood. "Ah! But you are wrong, Mr. Rimmer. I have it on good authority that you are ahead and that you will win."

"You do?" Rimmer straightened up and looked her in the eyes, trying to see if she was telling the truth or simply making fun of him.

"Yes. Stocky, our computer, has informed me of this. All you have to do is finish the assessment so that the scores can be officially presented to the captain." This much was the complete truth. What she didn't pass on to Rimmer, however, was that Stocky had broadly hinted that the captain had asked him to rig the scores so that it would look as though Rimmer had rightfully won no matter how the other competitor, Randy Navarro, actually performed. Captain Platini had grown tired of Navarro both personally and professionally: his second officer was too boring in bed and too pushy as an officer, always trying to second-guess his commands. Accepting Rimmer as a crewmember would be a legal means of getting rid of Navarro, a goal that Natalina heartily agreed with. She could tell that Navarro was angling to get her job, which she had no intention of letting happen. It would be a relief to be free of the pressure he always exerted on her. Rimmer, in contrast, was obviously no threat to her. He _had_ to be the winner—she couldn't let him withdraw.

"You really think...?" he trailed off.

"Yes," Natalina affirmed.

"Then I'll finish the challenge," proclaimed Rimmer in a determined voice. Natalina smiled, glad that she had prevailed, as was only right since hers was the superior mind.

* * *

After returning to _Red Dwarf_ for what would be his last time, Rimmer walked through the corridors lost in thought, his gaze riveted to the floor. As Natalina had predicted, he had beaten his challenger and been accepted as an officer. He still couldn't quite believe it. He had failed so many examinations in the past—how could he have possibly won this super-difficult challenge? He finally decided that he must have scored high enough while the mind patch was still operable that he managed to somehow squeak by his opponent despite the mess he must have made of the last part of the assessment.

The other thing bothering him was his imminent departure. Now that leaving _Red Dwarf_ forever was a certainty, he wondered if he'd made the right choice. The ship and its crew had been part of his life for so long that it was scary to think of leaving for something totally new and mostly unknown. And even though he doubted that Lister, Kryten, and the Cat would miss him, he knew he would miss them. They had been through a lot together, and that meant a great deal to him, although he'd never been able to tell them that. If he had, maybe they might have accepted him as one of them. Well, it was too late to do anything about that now—he was committed to joining the _Enlightenment_.

Rimmer looked up as he entered a room in which Lister and Cat were seated. "I won," he announced to them in a dejected tone of voice. He was no longer thrilled with the outcome—just depressed about leaving and worried about the future.

"What?" Lister exclaimed. There was no way Rimmer could have won without artificial assistance. And if he _had_ somehow won, why the smeg did he look so blue?

"I won. I'm an officer," Rimmer confirmed. "I leave tonight." He shrugged and left the room, leaving Lister and Cat totally dumbfounded.

"Well, isn't that a turn-up?" commented Lister to Cat. "Who'd of thought?"

"Definitely not me," Cat replied. "But what the hell—I'm not complaining. Let's celebrate!"

* * *

A few hours later, the _Dwarf_ers gathered to see Rimmer off. His personal belongings had been sent on ahead, and he was already dressed as an _Enlightenment_ officer. All that was left to do was say goodbye and be transmitted to the _Enlightenment_.

Rimmer was finding it difficult to leave, however. He had so much he wanted to say, especially to Lister, but he didn't know how to say it. He was too used to hiding his true feelings to suddenly be able to change. Besides, any time in the past that he'd risked showing his true feelings, he'd been badly hurt. Still, he hoped the others could hear what he was trying to say even if the words themselves were inadequate.

"Look," he began. "I'm not much good at speeches, and I know I haven't always been an easy guy to get on with."

_Well,_ that _had to be the understatement of the century!_ Lister thought, making a wry face as he looked away from Rimmer. Lister's body language was screaming that he didn't want to be there. He could hear that sad, soft tone in Rimmer's voice again, and it bothered him. Sarcasm and indifference were his instinctive defenses against acknowledging and responding to Rimmer's pain. After all, why should he respond? The man was a total smeghead.

"And I know that, given the choice, I probably wouldn't have chosen you as friends. But, I just want to say...that...over the years, ... I have come to regard you...as..." _No, I can't do it. I can't say it. They'll laugh at me behind my back_. "...people I've met. Look, I'd just better go, OK?"

"See ya, smeghead," Lister managed to say. He was totally unaware of the soft tone in which he said this, so that the epithet came out sounding more like an affectionate nickname than an insult. He would have denied to his last breath that he had meant it as anything other than a final kick in Rimmer's arse.

Rimmer, however, heard only the insult. "Transfer," he ordered quietly, disappointed at leaving on such a note.

"Transfer," Kryten confirmed.

And then Rimmer was gone.


	2. Chapter 2

After Rimmer's departure, Lister headed for the hologram simulation suite. He'd managed to sell the others on the idea of having Petersen join the crew (since he had never gotten up the nerve to ask Rimmer about the whereabouts of Kochanski's disc), and he wanted to be there when Holly switched him on. Kryten and Cat were setting up the Officer's Club for a "Welcome Back" party for Petersen, where they could all do some serious drinking and get acquainted—or reacquainted, in his own case. Lister felt a momentary twinge of guilt that they hadn't had any type of farewell party for Rimmer, but he dismissed the thought immediately. It wasn't like Rimmer had given them a lot of advance notice and besides, he would probably have sneered at the idea of such a party.

"Hey, Dave," greeted Holly as he entered the simulation suite. "Everything's ready to go—just say the word."

"Do it, Hol."

There was a buzzing sound and then Petersen was suddenly there, looking rather bleary eyed and disheveled.

"Petersen!" Lister called out. "Welcome back! Man, it's really good to see you again!" He stepped forward to hug him, but suddenly remembered that it wasn't possible now that Petersen was a hologram.

Petersen stared at him with a confused frown on his face. "Lister? Where the hell did you come from? And where am I, anyway? The last thing I remember, I was in the drive room, watching the captain rip Rimmer a new one..." He suddenly paled. "Wait a bloody minute. There was an explosion.... Jesus fucking Christ—what happened? Is everyone all right?"

Lister hadn't really expected that Petersen would remember the explosion and was at a loss how to reply. "Erm..." he hedged. Then he decided he might as well put all the cards on the table right away. "I don't know quite how to say this, Petersen, so I'll give it to you straight: The explosion killed everybody on board Red Dwarf except me, since I was in stasis."

"Smeg!" Petersen said shakily. "But I'm still here—I didn't die, right? I must've been in some kind of coma for a while, right?" He visibly brightened as this idea occurred to him.

"Actually, no. You're a hologram. You know, like McGregor."

"A hologram. Huh." Petersen processed this information for a moment, then swung his hand through Lister. "Hey, that's kinda cool!" he said, grinning. "Can I walk through walls and things like that?" He seemed to have recovered from his shock quickly, which was a relief to Lister. When Petersen had gotten upset, he was afraid he would have to have the whole "I'm-dead-No-you're-not-really" conversation with him, like he had so many times with Rimmer.

"Yeah, as long as you're being projected solely by the computer on board Red Dwarf, without a light bee. If you wanna travel on _Starbug_ and go to other planets, though, then you need a light bee, which means you can't walk through things anymore."

"OK, that made absolutely no sense to me," Petersen said. "But leave it for now. Let's go have a drink—wait, I can still drink, can't I?" The panicked look returned for a second.

"Sure—but only hologrammatic booze. It seems to have the same kick as the real stuff, though. All you have to do is ask Holly for whatever you want. C'mon, let's go to the Copa and you can try it out." Lister figured this would give Petersen some time to get used to the new situation and allow the others to finish setting up the Officer's Club.

"How'd you learn all this shit about holograms, anyway?" Petersen asked as they walked through the corridors. "You haven't turned into a nerd, have you?"

"'Course not! I learned the way I always have—by experience."

"But you're not a hologram. There's no haitch on your head."

"Er, well, you see, we had another hologram on board for a while," Lister replied with a slightly guilty tone in his voice.

"Who's 'we'? I thought you said everyone died."

"They did. I'm the only human survivor. But my cat Frankie survived, and she had kittens. They sorta evolved over the next three million years and ..."

"Three million years!" interrupted Petersen. "Bloody hell! How come you're not some dried-up corpse then?"

"Holly didn't let me out of stasis until the radiation levels were safe, which was about five years ago. So anyway, as I was sayin', the cats evolved into intelligent beings and eventually left _Red Dwarf_, but there was one still left on board when I woke up. Cat is a cool guy—you'll like him. The other crewmember is Kryten, a mechanoid we rescued from a crashed ship. He's a bit of a mother hen, but he's really great to have around."

They entered the bar and Lister went to get himself some lagers. Petersen sat down at one of the tables and said loudly, "Holly, pour me a double scotch, neat." The hologrammatic drink appeared in front of him as Lister joined him. Petersen downed it in one gulp. "Just keep 'em coming, Holly," he ordered.

"Well? What d'you think?" asked Lister.

"You mean about the scotch?"

Lister nodded.

"It's not as strong as the real thing—not nearly the wallop. And the taste isn't quite right," Petersen replied, critically examining his newly refilled glass. "But what the hell—after a few dozen shots, I doubt I'll notice the difference." He tossed back another drink.

"God, it's good to have you back. It's just like old times," Lister said fondly.

"Except Selby and Chen aren't here," pointed out Petersen. "When are you goin' to turn them on so the whole gang's here?"

Lister sighed. "I _can't_ turn them back on. There's only enough power for one hologram unless we turn off a lot of systems. We tried that once, but it isn't really safe because if we get hit by anything—asteroids or whatever—our backup systems would be off and things could get really screwed up."

"Who'd you try to bring back? No, let me guess: Kochanski. No wait, she must've been the first person you turned back on. So who was the second?"

Lister fidgeted uncomfortably. "It's a long story, and not a very interesting one at that."

"So what happened to Kochanski? Don't tell me you turned that hottie off—there's no way the Dave Lister I know would give up tryin' to get her into bed with him, no matter how snooty she acted."

Lister ducked his head and fiddled with his can of lager, bothered by the conversation. "I never got a chance to turn her on," he finally said. "When I came out of stasis, Holly had already revived another hologram."

"Really? Who?"

"Rimmer."

Petersen choked on his drink. "Rimmer!? That arsehole? Holly must have been space crazy when he did that!"

"Yeah, I think maybe he had gone a bit 'round the bend," Lister agreed. "By the way, Holly's a she nowadays."

"Well, at least there's one woman around here, then! So how many microseconds did Rimmer last as a hologram before you turned him off?"

"Um ... I didn't turn him off," Lister said. "He left a few hours ago to join a ship crewed by holograms."

"No way!" Petersen protested. "C'mon, tell me the truth, Davey."

"I just did."

"You mean you put up with that slimy bastard Rimmer for five whole years? _Why?_ You haven't gone insane, have you?" he asked, pulling back from Lister and eyeing him as if he were about to pull out a knife and start randomly attacking people.

Lister shook his head. "No, I'm not insane." But he didn't know why he had never turned Rimmer off. He'd often had the impulse to do it, especially when Rimmer was being particularly irritating, but somehow he had never acted on those impulses. He guessed it was because it would have seemed too much like murder, and even Rimmer didn't deserve to be murdered.

He tried to convey this idea to Petersen, who snorted. "Murder! It would have been justice—not murder! After all, it was Rimmer's fault that everyone died in the first place! Think about it, Lister. That damn bastard killed Kochanski. He killed me. He would've killed you if you hadn't happened to be in stasis. There's no way he deserved to come back as a hologram and prance around like nothing had happened!" Petersen was turning red with anger.

"Whoa!" warned Lister. "Calm down. It's not like Rimmer deliberately killed everybody, you know. It was an accident."

"How do you know? You weren't there. Maybe he got his jollies out of killing all of us. He certainly used to love to make everyone's lives as miserable as possible—you can't deny that."

"I really don't think...," Lister began, but Petersen cut him off.

"Oh, _now_ I get it! You kept him around because you were soft on the poofter. Have you turned into a nancy boy too?"

"What d'you mean by that?" Lister replied angrily. "I'm not gay. And neither's Rimmer, for that matter." He didn't know why he was defending Rimmer, but Petersen's attacks bothered him somehow.

"Oh come on—of course he is! Nobody's ever seen him with a woman, and he's totally wet. It's obvious!"

"Nah. You're wrong. In fact, one of the reasons he left was 'cause on that holoship he can have sex with as many women as he wants. He'd already scored with one before he joined the crew—lucky git."

"Sure, he probably said he scored with a woman, but I bet you 100 dollar-pounds that it was really a guy."

"I really don't wanna argue about this any more, Petersen. He's gone, so that's the end of it. Now finish your drink—I want you to meet the rest of the gang."

To Lister's relief, Petersen complied. They headed to the Officer's Club, happily reminiscing about their past exploits.

* * *

Rimmer had expected Nirvanah to be on hand to greet him upon his arrival on board _Enlightenment_, but she was conspicuously absent. Instead, Natalina and Captain Platini had done the honors, with the captain being exceptionally gracious and concerned about whether Rimmer was satisfied with his accommodations. Rimmer was relieved that his relations with this captain were getting off to a better start than had been the case with Hollister. Captain Platini treated him like a human being rather than an annoying insect, which was a welcome change. Still, he wished Platini hadn't hovered so much when he had been showing him his new quarters. Rimmer had never liked strangers invading his personal space, and he found it even more off-putting now that he had been physically cut off from other people for so long.

After Rimmer had strongly hinted to Platini that he was tired and wanted to get a full night's sleep, the captain had left him alone, saying that he looked forward to showing him the ropes. Rimmer waited a few moments, then set off in search of Nirvanah. A crewmember he met in the corridor informed him she was in the botanical gardens, so he headed there. Gardens were nice romantic places—at least, he knew that most women considered them as such—so he took it as a good sign that she was there. She was probably eagerly waiting for him to make an appearance. He quickened his pace out of fear that she would get impatient and leave.

The gardens were illuminated primarily by starlight, since the walls and ceilings were translucent. Some of the paths were bordered with small silvery lights that echoed the starlight, and others were dark. Rimmer wandered the maze of paths, keeping a sharp eye and ear out for Nirvanah. As he approached a gazebo set in a small, dark grove of trees, he finally heard her voice.

"...never even think about a second joining," she was saying.

A male voice answered: "That bad, eh?"

"Oh yes—he hardly lasted a minute, and all he ever said was 'Geronimo,' whatever _that_ means."

Rimmer stopped dead in his tracks, wishing he could sink into the ground and disappear forever.

"Still, at least I beat that Russian bitch to the fresh meat for once. That really put her nose out of joint."

Rimmer turned as quietly as he could on the graveled path and then ran off across the grass as fast as possible. He didn't stop running until he had regained the safety of his quarters, where he collapsed upon the luxurious double bed. He closed his eyes in shame and despair. _I should have known,_ he thought. _I can't do_ anything _right._

He lay awake in the dark long into the night.

* * *

The party for Petersen had been a roaring success. They had all gotten blitzed out of their minds, had a contest as to who could best imitate Rimmer's annoying habits—which Petersen won hands down—and played strip poker and the pointy-stick game. It felt as if Petersen had been part of their posse forever. Cat was willing to overlook Petersen's tasteless choice of clothes—he had asked Holly to change his khaki uniform for an outrageously loud Hawaiian shirt over a striped Russian sailor's t-shirt and black jeans—since he laughed hysterically at anything Cat said. Kryten was a little more reserved and uncertain about the new addition, but was glad to see Lister so happy.

It was almost dawn when Lister stumbled into his bunk. He had assumed Petersen would share his quarters, but the Dane had found the idea laughable. "I really wonder about you sometimes, Davey. Here you had the whole damn ship to choose from, and you bunked with _Rimmer?_ For five whole years?! Geez—I think I must've been right about you two! Either that or you went space crazy in stasis." Lister hadn't been able to come up with a good answer to that, so he had simply changed the subject. Petersen had ended up appropriating the captain's quarters, still shaking his head over Lister's lack of taste in living quarters and especially in roommates.

Lying alone in the quiet room now, Lister wondered why he had never bothered moving away from Rimmer. _Guess I was just lazy,_ he finally concluded. _That's all there is to it, an' Petersen's got his head up his arse if he thinks any different._

But it took Lister a long time to get to sleep in the oppressive silence.


	3. Chapter 3

Rimmer's first weeks on board _Enlightenment_ were proving exhausting. There were many new things he needed to learn, which placed him under a great deal of stress. Although Rimmer was in fact of average intelligence and quite capable of performing the duties required of him, he had so thoroughly absorbed his parents' and others' assessments of him as an idiot that he found it difficult to concentrate when in a learning situation or under any kind of pressure. His brain would freeze out of fear of failure, which in turn led to the very failure he dreaded, confirming to everyone—including himself—that he had "more teeth than brain cells," as Hollister had once memorably put it.

Platini had decided that he would act as Rimmer's mentor, which only made Rimmer more nervous. He was constantly worried that his intellectual deficiencies would be revealed and that he would be deactivated because he had cheated on the challenge. Plus, the captain frequently asked him about whether and how he was complying with the sex-twice-a-day health regulation—a rule that was quickly becoming the bane of Rimmer's life. It was the last thing he wanted to talk about, or even think about.

Natalina had been the first to make an appointment with him after he officially joined the crew. He had tried to object that he was too busy to possibly find the time for sex, but she had simply pulled up his schedule on her computer station and blocked out some time that she insisted he spend with her. Since she was a superior officer, he had no choice but to appear to acquiesce. When the time arrived, however, he had pleaded ill health, which seemed a plausible excuse given his pallor, sweatiness, and pounding heart. Natalina had simply dragged him to the medical unit and run a diagnostic on him, pronouncing him fine and stating that he was in obvious need of the relaxation that only sex could provide.

Out of excuses, Rimmer had reluctantly gone with her to the sex deck. The derisive comments that he had overheard Nirvanah make about him had echoed in his mind as Natalina practically pounced on him and pushed him roughly to the bed in one of the many private rooms available there. He had tried to force himself to respond to Natalina so that she wouldn't spread the word of his inadequacies to more members of the crew, but his body wouldn't cooperate. The element of desire simply wasn't there. All he really desired was to be far away, safe in his bunk on _Red Dwarf_ having a rousing argument with Lister. But Natalina wasn't one to give up without being satisfied. She had man-handled him until he had finally achieved an erection, and then had proceeded to order him about so that she could take her pleasure. It was anything but pleasurable to Rimmer, who felt used and sick at heart after the session.

The few other appointments on the sex deck that he had been unable to escape had been similar ordeals. He was too tense and worried about his abilities to ever relax and enjoy himself, and none of the women seemed to care the least bit about him or his feelings. He felt like a sex toy, not a human being, and he found that really bothered him.

Platini's voice pulled him out of his reverie. "Ah, Mr. Rimmer. Do you have those readouts I wanted?"

"Yes, sir," he replied, handing the flimsies to the captain, who he hadn't heard approaching his station. He hoped Platini hadn't noticed that he'd been staring off into space rather than paying attention to his instruments.

"Hmm. Yes. Very good," Platini said as he studied the readouts. "Please continue to monitor that planetoid—it appears to be developing an interesting wobble."

"Yes, sir."

"One other thing, Mr. Rimmer—I have noticed that you have not been keeping up with health regulations. This is not acceptable for an officer on my ship. I've therefore scheduled you for some sex with me later tonight to help you meet your daily quota. I will expect you at my quarters at 2100 hours, without fail."

Rimmer's eyes widened with shock. "Wha—? I mean, yes, sir," he managed to reply. He hadn't thought that the regulation meant he would be required to sleep with men upon demand as well. This was definitely not what he had expected when he had decided to become a member of Enlightenment's crew, but then again, nothing ever went the way he wanted it to. Platini moved off, leaving Rimmer wondering how his dream of finding love could have turned into a nightmare so quickly.

* * *

Lister trudged back to his quarters wearily. He, Kryten, and Cat had just spent the last hour or so running around _Red Dwarf_'s cargo decks armed with bazookoids, searching for what Holly swore was an alien life form but had actually turned out to be a malfunction in her sensors. Kryten had volunteered to fix the problem, and Cat had gone back to his nap, grumbling loudly about how the interruption had affected his ability to get in the proper amount of beauty sleep that day. A nap sounded like the perfect idea to Lister right now.

Besides being worn out, Lister was miffed that Petersen hadn't accompanied them on their mission, preferring instead to stay in the cinema and finish watching the movie he and Lister had been enjoying when Holly sounded the alarm. Lister had tried to persuade him to join them, but Petersen had merely waved his hand regally and said, "I'm a hologram—I can't carry a bloody bazookoid, and whatever it is can't kill me, so why the smeg should I bother getting up? For that matter, why should _you_ bother, mate? Just let the mech take care of it. That's what he's here for, isn't it?" Lister hadn't had time to argue with him then, given what he thought was the seriousness of the situation, but the incident had definitely rubbed him the wrong way.

He was therefore rather annoyed to find Petersen in his quarters when he entered. "Hey there, Davey," grinned Petersen, who was lolling in Rimmer's bunk. "Didja find the big, bad alien?"

"No," Lister replied shortly. "It turned out to be a false alarm."

"Figures," Petersen said. "I knew it wasn't worth getting up for."

"There's no way you could've known," Lister shot back angrily. "And even if you couldn't carry a bazookoid, you could've at least come with us and been an extra pair of eyes!"

"Tsk, tsk, Lister. I think someone needs his nap," Petersen chided with a chuckle. "Hey, speaking of naps—what's with the photo of you and the two ankle-biters? You didn't tell me you were a father—when did that happen? And when do I get to meet Mrs. Lister and the brats?"

"You can't. They're in a parallel universe and we can't go back to visit them. Look, I'm really tired right now. D'you mind if we talk later?"

"No probs," Petersen said, rolling off the bunk. "I'll see you later. But then I want to hear all the sexy details about Mrs. L!" He leered lewdly and walked out the door.

Lister sighed and climbed into his bunk. Somehow he didn't think Petersen would understand how he felt about his sons, so he really didn't want to get into long explanations about the circumstances of their birth and rapid aging. He could almost hear the rude comments Petersen would make if he knew that Lister had been pregnant. Had Petersen always been so immature, he wondered, or was it his sudden recall to hologrammatic life that was making him act callow and selfish? But Rimmer hadn't reacted that way, he recalled. Sure, Rimmer had teased him during his pregnancy, but he had also taken care of him as best he could: fussing over what he ate and drank, listening to him bitch about morning sickness and bloating, and studying up on c-sections so he could help instruct Cat and the skutters on how to deliver the babies. And although Rimmer had never admitted it out loud, Lister could tell he had been as devastated as he was to have to say goodbye to the twins.

All Petersen seemed to want to do was sit around, drinking and joking. Lister wanted more, though. He wanted something meaningful in his life. He wanted someone he could love and be loved by, someone who he could trust implicitly to always be there. He wanted... Smeg, he didn't really know who or what exactly, but he knew that not having them sucked.

* * *

Rimmer sat nervously on the edge of the bed in Platini's quarters, looking everywhere but at the captain, who sat beside him with a heavy hand resting on his shoulder.

"So, Arnold, have you ever had sex with a man before?" Platini asked.

Rimmer shook his head wordlessly.

"Then you're in for a real treat."

The smug, self-satisfied voice grated on Rimmer's nerves and he suppressed a shudder. "Erm...perhaps you'd rather be with someone more experienced," Rimmer began, hoping to find a last-minute way out of the situation. "I'm really not..."

"Nonsense," Platini interrupted him. "It's my pleasure to help you fulfill your health quota and introduce you to the finer things in life at the same time." As he spoke, he grasped Rimmer's chin and turned his face so they were eye to eye. "Let me show you what I mean." He leaned forward and began attacking Rimmer's mouth roughly, his kisses sloppy and wet.

Rimmer closed his eyes and tried to remove his mind from his body. _Just imagine you're back on Red Dwarf_, he told himself. Thoughts of _Red Dwarf_ brought back thoughts of Lister, and soon Rimmer's unacknowledged feelings and desires for his bunkmate were seeping into his protective fantasy. _Lister and I are in my bunk. He's just told me he loves me, and he hugs me as if he'll never let me go..._

Having kissed his partner for what he considered an adequate time for appropriate foreplay, Platini pushed Rimmer back onto the bed and ordered Stocky to remove their clothes. Rimmer shivered at the sudden coolness on his skin, a gesture Platini misinterpreted as eager anticipation.

_Listy kisses me all over, gently but passionately... He reaches for my cock... _

Platini ignored Rimmer's erection and straddled his chest so that his rigid penis bobbed in front of Rimmer's mouth.

"Suck me," ordered Platini.

The matter-of-fact command startled Rimmer out of his fantasy. He opened his eyes and stared at the huge cock that was demanding entrance into his mouth. Rimmer began to shake his head no and to tremble, but Platini was oblivious to his discomfort. As Rimmer opened his mouth to say that he didn't think he could comply, Platini took the opportunity to thrust forward.

"Ah," the captain sighed, thrusting in and out, "you have a sweet mouth."

Rimmer tried to breathe and not to choke or gag, but it was difficult. All he wanted to do was spit out the intruding object and drink lots of alcohol to wash away both the taste and the memory. Somehow he didn't think making love to Lister would be like this. Lister would be thoughtful and caring, he was sure. He'd make sure that Rimmer was enjoying himself too, rather than simply focusing on his own pleasure.

Then Platini was pulling out of his mouth and flipping him over onto his stomach. He slathered some lubricant onto Rimmer's entrance and then Rimmer could feel the head of his cock pressing into him.

_Lister,_ he thought desperately to himself. _Think of Lister. It's not that conceited bastard of a captain fucking me, it's Listy. It's...someone who doesn't even give a damn about me,_ he sighed, resigning himself to the reality of the situation. It was impossible to ignore the self-congratulatory voice in his ear going on and on about how lucky Rimmer was to have such an intelligent and virile man for a captain and mentor, or to pretend any longer that the real Lister would ever even dream of loving him. He shut his eyes and tried to blank out his mind altogether.

At long last Platini came and Rimmer was able to escape back to his own quarters by pleading the need for studying before going to bed. He felt dirtied and both physically and emotionally exhausted. After a shower that didn't make him feel much better, he stretched out on his bed with his arms behind his head, staring up at the ceiling.

The evening's experiences had brought into sharp focus some things that had been eating at him since he had first stepped on board the _Enlightenment_ as a member of its crew. He didn't fit in here, and he really didn't want to any more. Yes, it felt wonderful to finally be an officer, but the cost was too high. He had to return to _Red Dwarf_. Even though Lister didn't like him, he knew now that he loved Lister, and that was more important to him than being an officer.

Of course, he thought, Lister's opinion of him would drop even lower if he ever found out about his sexual misadventures on the _Enlightenment_. He could imagine Lister's incomprehension as to how he could be such a miserable failure with women, and he could almost see the disgust on Lister's face if he ever found out about Platini. Still, Rimmer was willing to risk the loss of the tolerance Lister currently had for him. He needed to know that Lister was alive and well, and to be near him even if they could never be truly together.

Rimmer resolved to approach Platini the first thing next morning and request a transfer back to _Red Dwarf_. He only hoped they'd let him leave rather than simply deactivate him—and that Lister would let him come home.


	4. Chapter 4

Lister had been surprised to receive the transmission from _Enlightenment_ announcing that Rimmer would be beaming back on board _Red Dwarf_. At first he assumed that Rimmer had forgotten something and was only dropping in to retrieve it and make a brief visit, but when Rimmer materialized it was obvious that his presence was intended to be more permanent—his trunks accompanied him, and he was dressed in his familiar red uniform. For some reason, that pleased Lister. Rimmer just hadn't looked right in that other uniform.

"Um, hello again," Rimmer said nervously to the assembled _Dwarf_ers once he was fully materialized. His heart started pounding when he noticed Petersen standing beside Lister. _Smeg! Of all the crewmembers they could have chosen to bring back, why did it have to be Petersen?_ Of course, once he stopped to think about it, it made perfect sense—Petersen and Lister had been close friends.

"Hey there, Rimmer," Lister greeted him nonchalantly. "The captain finally figure out you cheated on the challenge?"

Rimmer was about to angrily protest this assumption when he realized that it would be easier to just agree with it. It was as good an excuse as any other, since he couldn't tell them the real reason for his return. He nodded. "Yeah. It was nice while it lasted, though."

"Same here," the Cat piped up.

"Wait a minute," Petersen said aggressively, stepping forward to confront Rimmer and standing almost nose to nose with him. "Just because you got kicked off your dream ship doesn't mean you can waltz back in here like nothing's changed. You gave up any right you might have had to be part of this crew—not that I think you had any right in the first place, you stinking murderer!"

Rimmer flinched as if he had been struck and stepped back a pace.

"Steady on, Petersen!" Lister protested, grabbing ineffectively at Petersen's arm to pull him back from Rimmer.

Petersen swung around to face Lister. "You know I'm right, Lister. This ship can only generate one hologram—you told me that yourself. It was Rimmer's choice to leave, so I say he's stuck with that choice. Besides, none of you can stand the weasely bastard, so I don't any see real problem here."

Lister had the grace to blush at that blunt assessment, but Rimmer noticed with a heavy heart that he didn't deny it. It was Kryten who intervened to play the role of peacemaker: "I'm sure we can figure out some way to allow both Mr. Rimmer and Mr. Petersen to remain online."

Looking relieved, Lister seized on that idea. "Of course! We can use some sort of time-share arrangement or somethin'!"

"Time-share!" Rimmer exclaimed indignantly. "I'm not some holiday villa, you know!" His instinctive assumption that this was just an excuse to turn him off and then conveniently forget about him made him react more harshly than he had intended.

"No, you're a cowardly, murdering bastard!" shot back Petersen, enjoying the look of fear and guilt that passed across Rimmer's face.

"Now, now, Mr. Petersen, sir," Kryten protested, "what happened 3 million years ago has no relevance for our current situation."

"Yeah," agreed Lister, anxious to stop this line of argument before it got out of hand. "Look, we'll turn off all the nonessential systems for now so we can generate both of you, OK? That'll give us time to work out all the details. There's no point in trying to settle everything right this minute. Agreed?"

Rimmer nodded, glad of the temporary reprieve. Lister turned to Petersen for his response.

"Fine," Petersen said stiffly. But internally, he vowed that Rimmer would have to go.

"Good," Lister concluded with a sigh of relief. "Kryten, you and Holly get things sorted with the power, an' me and Cat'll help Rimmer move his stuff."

"Have fun, ladies," Petersen said. "I'm off to the bar."

* * *

Lister stowed the last of Rimmer's trunks in the storage space under their bunks, wincing a little as his eyes fell on the guitar-shaped hole in it that had been roughly repaired by nailing a plywood sheet behind it. He straightened up and glanced at Rimmer, who was pacing around the room. "So, how was it?"

"How was what?" Rimmer temporized, trying to avoid the question.

"You know—the women! The sex deck! Man, I was really jealous of you!"

Rimmer stopped pacing and put on a fake smile. "It was marvelous, Listy! They couldn't wait to get a piece of me!" That was true enough—so what if he didn't tell Lister that he had run away from most of them?

"I take it you managed to improve your score for the number of times you've made love, then?"

"Oh yes. So much so that I've lost track of it altogether," Rimmer stated, bouncing up and down on his toes and trying to sound enthusiastic. _Actually,_ he was thinking to himself, _the number of times I've made love is precisely zero, since none of my partners loved me._ He hadn't really appreciated the difference between performing the actions and experiencing the emotional aspects of sex until his time aboard the _Enlightenment_. The couplings he had experienced there had made a deep impression on him.

"You lucky dog," Lister said enviously. He picked up Rimmer's swimming certificates from the table and began hanging them in their old places.

"So, anything interesting happen while I was away?" Rimmer asked, taking the opportunity to change the subject.

"Not really. A few false alarms from Holly about alien life forms—you know, the usual."

"You really should change your socks more often, Lister," Rimmer scolded. "You know how it affects Holly's sensors."

Lister grinned. "It wasn't my fault this time, I swear!"

"Hmmph," Rimmer snorted. "Likely story." He paused a moment, then broached a subject that had been preying on his mind. "How's Petersen fitting in?"

"Just great!" Lister enthused. "We've been havin' lots of fun—just like old times."

That was exactly what Rimmer had been afraid to hear._I'll be switched off for sure,_ he thought. _Lister won't need me any more now that he's got Petersen._

"Good. I'm glad." He tried to put some warmth in his voice, but failed.

"Look, Rimmer, don't worry about what Petersen said back there. I know you didn't mean to kill the crew," Lister said. "He's just upset 'cause for him it's all still recent. He'll calm down once he gets used to things."

"Sure." Rimmer wanted to point out that even before the accident Petersen had despised him and made his life miserable, making it extremely doubtful he would change in the near future, but he resisted the impulse. Petersen was Lister's friend, so there was no way Lister would listen to or believe anything negative about him.

Just then Kryten appeared on the viewscreen and announced that dinner was ready.

"You go on, Lister. I'll get the skutters to help me finish unpacking."

"OK. See ya later!"

* * *

It didn't take long for the skutters to finish putting Rimmer's possessions back in place. When they departed, he looked around the room with approval—_this_ was where he belonged. He wanted to stay here, even if it meant only existing for short periods of time. At least he could be with Lister during those intervals. It was better than nothing.

He turned and headed for the door, intending to go join the others, but his progress was abruptly halted as he walked straight into Petersen.

"Ooomph," Rimmer grunted, stumbling backward from the unexpected collision.

Petersen stepped into the room and ordered the doors to lock and the viewscreen changed to Privacy mode. "Well, Rimmer, we meet again," he said coldly.

Rimmer backed away warily, trying to keep the table between himself and the intruder, even though it offered no protection given that both of them were holograms. He swallowed convulsively and tried to speak in a calm, rational tone, but the words came out more as a high-pitched squeak: "Petersen. Ah. How nice to see you—but I was just leaving, so..."

"Damn right you're leaving—permanently." Petersen advanced on Rimmer, trapping him in a corner of the room.

"I—I don't... " Rimmer started to say, his eyes widening. Was Petersen planning on killing him? But he couldn't, could he? There was no way he could crush his light bee, since that wasn't hologrammatic. However, Petersen _could_ hurt him, as he had done in the past. Rimmer's mind was full of the memory of being beaten to within an inch of his life by Petersen, Selby, and Chen in this very room as their retribution for what they thought had been his betrayal of Lister regarding the presence of his cat.

"You're going to go to Lister and volunteer to be turned off forever, you miserable piece of shit," Petersen ordered.

"No!" Rimmer protested frantically. There was no way he'd agree to that!

Petersen grabbed Rimmer by the neck and lifted him off the ground, squeezing the other man's neck painfully between his large, strong hands. Rimmer's eyes bulged and his feet kicked helplessly in the air, but he continued to shake his head no.

Enraged, Petersen threw Rimmer away from him. Rimmer passed through part of the table and crumpled onto the floor. He looked up to see Petersen looming over him.

"You don't want a repeat of our last encounter, do you?" Petersen asked menacingly.

Rimmer shook his head wordlessly.

"Then do what I told you."

"No." He knew what the consequences of that refusal would be, but he couldn't give in. He had only just realized the extent of his feelings for Lister, and he couldn't walk away now.

The first kick landed on his stomach, and he gasped and curled up in pain. The fusillade of kicks and blows that followed seemed to go on forever, accompanied by a torrent of invective from Petersen. The curses and threats merged into incomprehensible buzzing sounds as Rimmer began to lose his grip on consciousness. He was close to blacking out when the attack suddenly stopped.

Petersen bent down and slapped his victim sharply across the face to gain his attention. Rimmer's eyes fluttered open and gazed at his tormentor vaguely.

"This is only the beginning," Petersen told him. "Believe me, I can do a hell of a lot worse to you—and will—if you don't do what I said. And don't even think of telling Lister about this: He'd never believe your word over mine. You're gonna have to give in, Rimmer, so you might as well do it now before I _really_ hurt you."

Rimmer wanted to tell him to go to hell, but all that came out was a groan as he lapsed into unconsciousness.

"Damn," Petersen muttered to himself. He hadn't thought Rimmer would be so obstinate—he should have caved at the mere threat of violence. Now he'd have to think of a new approach. But first, he had to cover his tracks here. Petersen quickly dragged Rimmer to his bunk and dumped him into it, arranging his limp body so he looked as if he were sleeping. Then he ordered the viewscreen back to its normal mode and looked around the room to double-check that there was no evidence of his presence. Satisfied with his survey, he left, wracking his brains as to what his next steps should be.


	5. Chapter 5

The blare of the alarm drowned out the movie's soundtrack just as Rick was about to persuade Ilsa to board the plane. Lister groaned. Not again!  
"OK, Holly," he said out loud, rolling his eyes. "What is it _this_ time—another nonexistent alien life form?" Next to him, Petersen guffawed loudly.

"Nah. This is a real brown-trousers emergency—we have a loose drive plate."

Lister sprang from his seat, his blood turning cold. "Where!?"

"Deck 222, Blue Corridor 57."

"Tell Kryten to meet me there right away." He dashed out of the cinema with Petersen right on his heels.

When they arrived at the trouble spot after collecting the necessary tools, the others were already there. Kryten was examining the drive plate carefully and discussing its condition with Holly. Rimmer hovered nervously in the background, his face pale and worried.

"What's the scoop, Kryten? Can we fix it?" panted Lister as he slid to a halt.

"Yes sir, Mr. Lister. Either you or Mr. Cat will need to do the actual repair, since it's delicate work, but I can talk you through it."

"OK, tell me what to do."

A tense fifteen minutes later, the repair was completed. "Whew!" Lister exclaimed, wiping the sweat off his face and sinking down to sit slumped against the corridor wall. "That should hold it."

Petersen glared at Rimmer. "Unlike the last time this happened," he said pointedly.

Rimmer winced and turned away from the other hologram's accusing stare. The current situation had brought back in full force all his memories and guilt regarding the drive plate accident, and Petersen's explicit mention of his past role in the crew's demise wasn't helping matters.

"I bet you had somethin' to do with this too, didn't you, you backstabbing Judas?" Petersen continued.

Rimmer whirled around, his mouth hanging open in shocked disbelief. He didn't know what to say, the accusation was so unexpected and unbelievable.

"C'mon, Petersen—give him a break," Lister said wearily. "He's a hologram. There's no way he could have damaged the drive plate." He was beginning to think that Petersen was obsessed with the accident. Why couldn't he just accept it—and Rimmer—and move on?

"He killed everyone on board the ship before, the exact same way, and he's tryin' to do it again now. Don't ask me how, though—ask him!"

"This is absolutely absurd," Rimmer declared indignantly. "Anyone with a brain larger than a walnut could see that I had nothing to do with this!" He turned to Lister, his voice impassioned. "Why would I possibly want to kill you?"

Petersen leaped in with an explanation before Lister had an opportunity to even think about the question. "Because Lister and Kryten suggested that you be turned off periodically! You're so bloody self-centered that you couldn't stand the thought of not existing even for a short time, so you decided to kill them instead."

Lister had to admit that what Petersen said made sense in a warped sort of way. And Rimmer was definitely warped. Still—murder? Even Rimmer wouldn't go that far.... Wait a minute, what about that time he had killed all those wax droids by sending them into battle and then turning up the thermostat? Sure, his light bee had been damaged at the time, but it did make one wonder about his moral code and thought processes.

Rimmer watched the fleeting expressions chase across Lister's face and realized that Lister doubted him. That hurt more than Petersen's accusation.

Ever the logical one, Kryten hastened to diffuse the confrontation by pointing out the obvious. "There's an easy way to determine the truth, sirs. All we have to do is examine Holly's black box recordings."

Of course! Rimmer thought with relief. The recordings would exonerate him beyond a shadow of the doubt. "I agree," he said out loud. "I have absolutely no objections to checking them."

"Great idea, Krytes!" said Lister, glad that there was an official source to turn to so they could put this stupid argument to rest. "It'll be more comfortable viewing them in the rec room, though, so let's go there."

Rimmer's quick acceptance of the suggestion had convinced Lister that his original assessment of the situation was correct—it was just Petersen obsessing about old grudges again. Once they'd viewed the recordings and Petersen saw that Rimmer was innocent, maybe he'd ease up a bit and forget about the past. He certainly hoped so, since all this rancor was getting tiresome. Of course, once they finalized the time-sharing arrangements, the tension on the ship would be cut in half and they wouldn't have any more of these scenes. He'd better get cracking on that task, it seemed.

* * *

"OK, Hol. Scan the last few hours of recordings for Blue Corridor 57 on Level 222 and play back anything out of the ordinary," Lister ordered as he leaned back in his chair lazily. He doubted there would be anything to view.

"Got it. Here you go. This was recorded an hour and a half ago."

On the viewscreen, a shadowy figure walked down a corridor, accompanied by one of the skutters. As the person passed by the camera, his identity was revealed: It was Rimmer. Lister watched in appalled disbelief as Rimmer knelt down by the drive plate and began instructing the skutter to pry it loose.

"Don't pull it out too far," the tinny voice of Rimmer on the recording said. "I want to let some time go by before it goes critical, just in case I need an alibi."

After carefully inspecting what the skutter had done, Rimmer stood up, saying, "Well done. Now remember, if by some chance anyone asks, you never saw me today, got it?" The skutter nodded its claw, and it and Rimmer moved off down the corridor. The recording ended at that point.

Lister swung his chair around to stare at Rimmer. _How could he do something like this?_ He thought he had known all the negative aspects of his bunkmate, but this took the cake. He didn't want to believe that Rimmer was a cold-blooded murderer, but the proof was incontrovertible. Disgust and anger filled him—anger both at Rimmer and at himself for ever having felt the beginnings of friendship for such a bastard.

"How could you?" he hissed at Rimmer, blind to the other man's genuine shock and dismay.

"I—I—," Rimmer stammered helplessly, unable to put together a coherent reply. His mind was racing, trying to figure out how this recording could possibly exist given that he had never sabotaged the drive plate or even been in that corridor since god knows when.

"I told you he was dangerous," Petersen announced triumphantly. "If we let him stay on, who knows what he'll do next? I say we throw the switch right away."

Rimmer's stomach lurched. He knew now what had happened: Petersen had carried through on his threats to get rid of him by any means necessary. For the past week, Petersen had been making his life hell, beating him up at every opportunity and insulting and disparaging him in front of the others in an effort to get him to agree to being turned off. Petersen had even threatened to rape him, but had apparently been put off by his lack of reaction. After what had happened to him aboard _Enlightenment_, Rimmer no longer cared what use was made of his body. Nothing could soil him any more than he already was. And so Petersen had been forced to up the ante by putting others at risk—something Rimmer couldn't ignore.

Once he had figured out that Petersen was behind the incident, Rimmer was quickly able to work out how he had done it. After all, he himself had done something similar with Kochanski's image when he had been trying to dissuade Lister from becoming an officer. He was on the verge of explaining this to Lister and the others when the realization hit him that he probably wouldn't be believed. He could almost feel Lister's anger, and Kryten and the Cat didn't look any more receptive to explanations than Lister did. They'd probably just assume he was lying to protect himself. More importantly, if he didn't do as Petersen desired, they would all be in grave danger from similar stunts that Petersen might pull in the future. He would survive, being a hologram, but they wouldn't. The thought of Lister dying because of him was the final straw. He would do what Petersen wanted.

Kryten was saying something about Space Corps directives and the need for a formal tribunal with a proper number of officers when Rimmer interrupted him.

"There's no need for a trial. I'll accept the group's verdict. If you think I should be turned off, then...then that's what we'll do."

"Tell me I'm not dreaming!" exclaimed the Cat gleefully. "My vote's for turning goalpost-head number one off PDQ."

Kryten looked solemn. "Given the grave threat to human life that Mr. Rimmer poses, as shown by this recording, I have no choice but to recommend his termination."

All eyes turned to Lister. Technically, his vote wasn't needed—a majority already existed for termination. However, Lister's voice carried the most weight with the crew by an unspoken consensus. He could feel the burden of that leadership role now. Rimmer's actions were heinous, but to switch him off forever felt like administering capital punishment, which Lister had never believed in. But imprisoning Rimmer was no solution either—the ship couldn't sustain two holograms for extended periods of time, and it seemed pointless to turn Rimmer on and off in a time-share arrangement with Petersen if the rest of his life would be spent in the brig. And who knew if they'd be safe even if Rimmer were imprisoned? If he could betray them like this after all they had been through together, then he was capable of anything.

"I'm sorry, Rimmer," he said at last. "I agree with the others."

Rimmer nodded, ducking his head so that the tears that were springing to his eyes would remain hidden.

"Do you have any last wishes?" Lister forced himself to ask. Being the judge and executioner was not a job he enjoyed.

_Yes. I want to have the courage to tell you how much I love you._ "No. Just give me ten minutes or so to get ready. I'd prefer to be alone in the Observation Dome when you do it—you can retrieve my light bee there afterwards." Although Rimmer was trying his best to keep his voice flat and unemotional, Lister could hear the tremor in it. The sharp edge of his anger melted, but he knew he had no choice but to proceed with the group's verdict.

"Sure. Take your time," he said with unexpected gentleness.

"He should have a guard with him," protested Petersen.

"I don't think that will be necessary," Lister said. "Holly can keep tabs on him and let us know when he's reached the Observation Dome. Go ahead, Rimmer, and goodbye."

"Goodbye," Rimmer managed to choke out, raising his eyes to take one last look at Lister to hold in his heart as he went to face oblivion. Then he turned and left the room.

* * *

Rimmer stood in the Observation Dome gazing out at the stars and remembering times in the past when Lister and he had shared confidences or a comfortable silence there when one or the other of them was hurting. Now he was facing the ultimate pain, alone. He wished he had been able to tell Lister at least some of his feelings, but there was no time. He had dictated a short message and had Holly print it out, but by necessity it had to leave things unsaid because of the lack of privacy involved in such a method of communication. The note wasn't even in his handwriting, which he regretted. Well, he'd soon be free of the limitations of being a hologram. He just hoped that Petersen would be satisfied once he was gone and wouldn't endanger Lister again.

* * *

In the hologram simulation suite, Lister confirmed with Holly that Rimmer had reached the Observation Dome. He knew he should simply deactivate Rimmer without further ado, but he couldn't bring himself to give the order yet. Instead, he asked Holly to turn on the monitor that would allow him to observe Rimmer.

_I just want to make sure he's not tryin' to pull any fast ones,_ he told himself as justification for his actions. But deep down he was having difficulty saying goodbye to Rimmer and felt a need to see him one last time. The monitor flickered on to reveal Rimmer, dressed in his formal white uniform, standing quietly and staring out into the black vastness of space.

_God, this is hard,_ Lister thought. _I don't see how people could've ever gone to watch executions for fun._ What he had to do was anything but fun.

As if Rimmer had heard him, he said in a quiet voice, "It's all right, Listy. I'm ready."

Swallowing hard, Lister closed his eyes and removed Rimmer's personality disk from the projection unit while Holly shut off his image. _Goodbye, smeghead._

* * *

Lister retreated to his quarters after finishing his distasteful duties, which included searching the dome for Rimmer's inactive light bee and storing it in the hologram simulation suite. The moment he walked in the door, though, he knew he had chosen the wrong place to try to recover from the day's emotions—Rimmer was simply too great a presence in their shared room. His swimming certificates adorned the walls, his books filled the bookshelves, and his empty bunk seemed to be waiting for him to lie down on it and start insulting anyone and everyone.

_You had to do it,_ Lister told himself. _He tried to murder us._ But nothing about the situation made sense to him. _Why, Rimmer? Why?_

His eyes caught sight of something lying on the table and he walked over to check it out. The object was one of Rimmer's nineteenth-century soldier figurines—the only one that had survived their ordeal on board the crashed Starbug. Lister picked it up and gazed at it, noting the charred portions that attested to its near destruction and remembering how Rimmer had been willing to sacrifice it to match what he thought was Lister's own supreme sacrifice. There was a computer printout on the table as well—a note from Rimmer:
    
    
    Listy, I want you to have this.
    
    —AJR
    
    PS: Please don't burn it unless absolutely necessary.

Lister snorted with laughter that quickly turned into a sob as tears overflowed his eyes and ran down his face.


	6. Chapter 6

It had been over a month since Rimmer had been deactivated. Life went on as usual on board _Red Dwarf_, although Lister felt oddly discontent. Despite the others' company and the adventures that punctuated the monotony of life in space, the nagging feeling that something was wrong with his world persisted. There was a hole in his life that nothing seemed able to fill. It didn't help matters that Cat and Petersen frequently brought up the subject of Rimmer, making fun of everything about the man and congratulating themselves on being rid of him. Whereas once he would have joined in their sport, it no longer seemed funny to him—not without Rimmer there to give as good as he got.

Thinking of Rimmer made him feel torn and guilty. After all, Rimmer had tried to kill them. How could he possibly miss a would-be murderer? It seemed a betrayal of his fellow crewmates to harbor positive feelings about such a person. Try as he might, however, he couldn't eradicate his memories of the fun times he had had with Rimmer in the past, and he still felt horrible and sick at heart whenever he thought about the day he had turned Rimmer off.

_What I need,_ he told himself as he was drifting off to sleep in his bunk, _is a good bonk—preferably outdoors on a nice green planet with plenty of sunshine. It's probably sex I'm missing—not Rimmer. A few hours with a sexy babe and I'd be back to normal. Hmmm, I can just picture it..._

His hand wandered down to his penis and he began stroking himself as he fantasized. He and Krissy were having a picnic in a lush meadow beside a babbling brook in the middle of nowhere. She was naked and feeding him grapes as she played with his cock. As she leaned over him, he sucked on her taut nipples. A warm mouth enveloped his cock, licking and sucking in exactly the way that drove him crazy. _Oh yeah, Rimmer, that's perfect..._

Lister's eyes shot open. _That_ wasn't supposed to be part of the fantasy! This was getting absurd—he'd better just roll over and go to sleep. But his cock was rock hard and wouldn't take no for an answer. He had to finish himself off, so he did. He tried not to think about the fact that it wasn't the idea of sex with Kochanski that had made him come.

* * *

Lister and Petersen were the last two left semi-conscious at Petersen's birthday party, which took place almost two months after Rimmer's deactivation. Kryten had retired a while ago to do a final load of laundry before going offline for the night, and Cat was curled up under a table sleeping off too many shots of tequila. It was a close bet which of the remaining two would pass out first.

"So," Lister said, "was the party up to your high standards?"

"Almost," Petersen replied. "Holo-alcohol just isn't as good as the real thing, and I still say we should've revived some women to liven things up. I'm so horny even you're beginning to look good to me!"

"Just take a cold shower like the rest of us, mate."

"Ah, c'mon, Davey. It's my birthday. Turn on one woman for me, just for the night. I think that cute brunette mining engineer had a thing for me. What the hell was her name?"

"Forget it, Petersen. You're so drunk I doubt you'd be able to get it up anyway."

"Hey, I _never_ have that problem," protested Petersen. "If you switch on a bird for me, I'll prove it!"

"Yeah, like I wanna watch you get some when there's no one for me to play with."

"It's all that damn Rimmer's fault! If he hadn't screwed up that drive plate repair, we wouldn't be stuck like this!" Petersen exclaimed in frustration. "I wish I'd've spaced that bastard 3 million years ago!"

"You know, I still don't understand why they let him anywhere near something as important as that drive plate," Lister said pensively, ignoring Petersen's standard tantrum regarding Rimmer.

"I'll tell you a secret, Davey, me old pal," Petersen said in a conspiratorial whisper. "I put his name down on the A-shift duty roster as a joke. Even forged his handwriting. I figured that stupid git in charge of A-shift, Blackwell, would see the name and chew Rimmer out for tryin' to give himself a back-door promotion. Fuck knows why he didn't catch it."

Lister was taken aback. This was the first he had heard of anything unusual regarding Rimmer's role in the accident.

"But Rimmer _did_ do the actual repair, didn't he?"

"Dunno," slurred Petersen. "I mean, yeah. Had to have been him. Nobody else would've done such a bloody awful job." Despite being totally plastered, Petersen knew better than to admit that he really didn't know whether Rimmer had actually done the work or what state Rimmer might have been in if he had attempted the repair, given the fact that the second technician had been severely beaten by himself, Selby, and Chen the night before. He knew Lister had a soft heart and wouldn't approve of the revenge they had taken on Rimmer. "Besides, I remember Hollister yellin' at him for fuckin' it up, and Hollister must've known what really happened."

"Yeah, I guess you're right," Lister agreed, although the seeds of doubt had been planted in his mind.

The conversation then turned to other matters until the two men finally drank each other under the table.

* * *

While recovering from his hangover the next day, Lister found himself thinking about what Petersen had told him regarding his practical joke on Rimmer. There was a time when he would have appreciated the humor of the joke and enjoyed watching it play out, but such a time seemed a lifetime ago. Now all he could think about was how disastrously wrong the joke had gone. Everyone on the crew had died, and Rimmer had been left with the burden of guilt for their deaths—a burden that had weighed on him so heavily that he had almost managed to get himself imprisoned for nine thousand years. Perhaps Petersen's own guilty feelings were behind the almost obsessive hatred he bore toward Rimmer for killing the crew, Lister theorized. It would explain a lot.

Lister idly wondered whether Rimmer had ever questioned why he had suddenly been entrusted with a major repair. Probably not, he guessed—Rimmer most likely would have thought it was a belated recognition of his natural abilities. He wouldn't have suspected a set-up. Suddenly Lister sat bolt upright in his bunk. Smeg! Maybe that whole thing with the sabotaged drive plate was a set-up too! _No, wait,_ he told himself. _Petersen would never go that far._ Besides, the black box recording had proved Rimmer had been the saboteur.

But once the idea of trickery had entered Lister's mind, he found that he couldn't shake it. Well, there was one way to put his mind to rest once and for all. He heaved himself out of the bunk and went up to the drive room.

"Holly, could you search for all the black box recordings taken on the day the drive plate was sabotaged?"

"Sure, Dave. Most of them won't show anything, though, what with all the empty areas in the ship."

"Just ignore those. I want you to determine where each person on board _Red Dwarf_ was during the time that Rimmer was recorded messing with the plate and to flag those recordings. Can you do that?"

"Of course—I have an IQ of 6,000, you know."

"Yeah, so you've said."

"All right. I've done it. Now what?"

"Play them for me," Lister ordered. He watched on the monitor as various time-stamped recordings appeared. Kryten was folding laundry. Cat was waxing his legs. He himself was eating curry and doing some kind of puzzle in a magazine. Rimmer was ordering the skutter to pry up the drive plate. And Rimmer was lying in his bunk reading.

"What about Petersen?" he asked. "Isn't he in any of the recordings?"

"Not for that specific time frame, no."

"Zoom in on Rimmer's book, Hol." At closer magnification, the title could be seen: _Morris Dancing Through the Ages_. Yep, that had to be the real Rimmer. No one else would read boring crap like that. But he needed to check one more thing.

"Show me what Petersen was doing immediately prior to this time period."

"I'm sorry—those recordings seem to be missing. I dunno where they could've gotten to..."

"How about any recordings taken in the hologram simulation suite immediately prior to the drive plate incident?"

"They're gone too—there's nothing from those cameras for that whole day. This is really annoying: I don't take kindly to people mucking about with my recordings!"

"Don't worry about it, Hol. I have a feeling it won't happen again," Lister said grimly. "Make a copy of everything you've just shown me, OK? I'll need to show it to the others."

* * *

"So there you have it," Lister declared, pausing the two monitors showing the simultaneous existence of two Rimmers. "Petersen borrowed Rimmer's image to frame him."

"Hold on, bud—not so fast! What about that time there were two Rimmers and both of them really _were_ Rimmer?" Cat shuddered at the memory. "How do you know he didn't do the same thing again?"

"I checked with Holly. Only two personality disks were loaded at the time in question: Petersen's and Rimmer's. If Rimmer had activated another hologram of himself, he would have had to use the backup copy of his personality disk, which, according to Holly, wasn't accessed at all."

Cat looked puzzled as he processed this information. Kryten, on the other hand, comprehended the situation immediately. "Oh dear. What a mess!"

"Yeah," agreed Lister. "I say we fix it by turnin' Petersen off and Rimmer back on."

Cat looked about to protest, but Lister cut him off. "It's only fair. After all, Petersen was the one who first said that the guilty person should be turned off."

"But what about a trial, sir? Surely we need to be a bit more formal about this," Kryten said uneasily.

"We didn't have a trial for Rimmer. Besides, I don't think reviving a bunch of officers to make things official is a good idea—it would drain power and be unfair to whoever we temporarily switched on."

"That is a valid point, sir. Should I ask Petersen to join us here?"

"Where is he now?" Lister asked.

"In the Happy Astro—he said he needed to drink away his hangover," Cat said.

"Hol—punch up the Happy Astro, please."

The viewscreen came to life and Petersen could be seen slumped over the bar, obviously passed out again from too much alcohol.

"Well, this makes things a lot easier," Lister said. He hadn't been looking forward to another scene in which he had to judge and condemn a one-time friend. "We can have Holly turn him off right now. He'll never know anything about it, which is a hell of a lot kinder than what we did to Rimmer."

Within minutes, the posse had agreed on this course of action, and Holly put it into effect. That just left the problem of Rimmer. _How do you apologize to someone for ending their existence by mistake?_ Lister wondered. He hoped he'd figure out a way soon.

 

The moment was at hand, but Lister still didn't know what he was going to say to Rimmer once he switched his light bee back on. He paced around their quarters, holding the light bee and nervously trying out different speeches, wondering how Rimmer would react to them. Sighing, he finally gave up. He didn't think he'd ever come up with the right words, so the only thing to do was to take the plunge. "OK, Holly. Switch 'im back on," he ordered, placing the light bee carefully on the floor.

And there was Rimmer, resplendent in his white dress uniform bedecked with long-service medals. Lister couldn't believe how good it was to see him again. A smile lit his face as he stepped toward Rimmer, his nervousness momentarily banished by the wave of warm feelings that washed over him.

"Welcome back, Rimmer!" he greeted the hologram enthusiastically.

"Back?" asked Rimmer, obviously confused. "Did you decide I could time-share with Petersen after all?"

"Nah—you're back permanently, mate. We figured out that Petersen framed you, so we turned him off and turned you back on."

Rimmer looked stunned. "You turned off Petersen in favor of _me_?"

Rimmer's obvious disbelief that any one could prefer his company made Lister's heart ache. "Yeah. I wish I'd never brought back Petersen in the first place. We were pals once, but I don't think I ever really knew him. I'm really sorry about what he did—no, what I did—to you."

"But you didn't do anything to me, Listy. I knew it was all Petersen's idea." Rimmer hated seeing Lister take the blame for something that wasn't his fault.

"So why didn't you say something?" Lister asked, posing a question that had been bothering him for a while. "Why did you just let us turn you off without a fight?"

"Erm," Rimmer stalled, looking away. He couldn't tell Lister that the deciding factor had been his fear for Lister's life. "I guess I thought you wouldn't believe me," he finally said, telling a partial truth.

"Yeah, I can see why you wouldn't trust us," Lister said thoughtfully, feeling bad that their past treatment of Rimmer had obviously made him feel isolated. Inwardly, he resolved that things would change from here on in. "I'm really sorry about that, too."

Rimmer was tempted to make a sarcastic remark simply to protect himself from the laughter and put-downs that would surely be forthcoming to puncture this scene of apparent friendship, but something held him back. Lister looked—and sounded—genuinely sincere, as if he really _did_ care. If there was even a remote possibility of that being true, Rimmer didn't want to ruin it.

Sensing Rimmer's uncertainty, which he ascribed to Rimmer not being sure of his welcome, Lister decided to tell him something he had been reluctant to admit even to himself: "I missed you, man. I really, really missed you."

That declaration made Rimmer's heart ten times lighter and gave him the courage to reply in kind: "I missed you too, Listy."

"You what? I thought you couldn't think or anything when you were turned off!" Lister exclaimed, horrified at the thought that Rimmer's consciousness had been aware while existing in a void for so long.

"I didn't mean that—of _course_ I couldn't think then. I meant while I was on board _Enlightenment_." He hesitated a moment, then continued. "It's why I came back."

Now it was Lister's turn to feel surprised. "Really? But you said—"

"I know what I said. I...I just didn't want to tell you the truth." Rimmer blushed and looked down at the floor.

If Lister could have hugged the hologram at that point, he would have. He felt a connection with Rimmer that he had never felt before with anyone. Nobody had ever cared about him so much that they would have given up their dreams to be near him. Since he couldn't express himself physically, however, he had to somehow find the right words. "Rimmer, man, I don't know how it happened, but I think—I think I'm falling in love with you."

"Really?" breathed Rimmer in happy shock and disbelief.

"Really," affirmed Lister.

"But—but I'm a hologram. We can never even touch each other..." Rimmer felt sure that Lister wouldn't be satisfied with solely a platonic relationship.

"I'm sure we can find ways around that," Lister said with a grin. "That is, if you feel the same way," he added, suddenly worried that he might have misinterpreted Rimmer's feelings.

"Of course I do!" Rimmer exclaimed, as if Lister were being particularly dense. "I love you!"

"Good," sighed Lister. "Actually, you gave me an idea for one way we could be together."

"Me? When?"

"About a month ago."

"But I wasn't even around then!"

"You were in me dreams, mate. And they were damn good dreams, too—gave me some of the best orgasms I've ever had." After his first unintentional fantasy about Rimmer, he had found himself thinking more and more about making love with Rimmer. The idea had excited him and added zest to his solitary pleasures.

"I'm not sure I understand," Rimmer replied, puzzled.

"Then I guess I'll just have to give you a demonstration," Lister said. "First, why don't you take off your jacket and get a bit more comfortable?" He shed his own jacket as he spoke.

Rimmer followed his lead, carefully removing his jacket and watching Lister carefully for clues as to where this was heading.

Lister sat down on the lower bunk and kicked off his boots. "C'mere, Rimsy," he said, patting the edge of the bed next to him.

Rimmer gulped. He was beginning to understand, and the idea excited him. He could feel himself growing hard as he hurriedly sat down next to Lister. He ran his eyes over his partner, taking in every glorious inch of him, and was happy to see a corresponding bulge in Lister's trousers. "You look wonderful, Listy," he said huskily. "I want to see all of you, though."

"OK," Lister said, pulling his T-shirt off. He unzipped his trousers and quickly removed them and the remainder of his clothes in one economical movement, revealing his thick erection. The sound of Rimmer's quick intake of breath added to his excitement. "Your turn to strip now, Rimmer," he said.

Rimmer fumbled a bit with his shirt buttons in his haste to comply, but he finally managed to get rid of all his clothes.

"Mmmm, much better," said Lister as the last article of clothing was removed. Rimmer's cock was just as he had imagined—long and slender, like his hands. Right now it was also definitely aroused.

Lister laid down on his side on the bed, scooting in till he was near the wall, and gestured for Rimmer to join him. They faced each other, gazing into each other's eyes as they both drank in the love they never thought they'd find in such an unlikely place.

"I love you, Arnie. I want to touch you and be touched by you," said Lister as he reached one hand out to stroke Rimmer's face as best he could without disrupting the image field. "Can I?"

Rimmer nodded. As Lister's hand reached toward his cock, he grasped it himself and squeezed. By focusing on Lister's face, he could easily believe that it was actually Lister's hand that held him, and the result was electric. He gasped out loud and shivered with pleasure.

Seeing Rimmer react so passionately turned Lister on even more. "That's it," he encouraged his partner. "Now touch me."

Rimmer used his other hand to encircle Lister's penis, trying to position it so that it obscured Lister's hand. When Lister glanced down, the illusion was very convincing. He moaned as he stroked himself.

Rimmer, for his part, was very close. His breath came in gasps of anguished pleasure. "Listy, I'm—I'm—oh god!" he yelled wildly, throwing his head back and arching his back as he was overwhelmed with a powerful orgasm. He had never felt anything like it in his life.

For Lister, the experience was even better than his fantasies—seeing and hearing Rimmer's passion for real was exciting beyond his wildest dreams. Seeing Rimmer come in such an uninhibited fashion was all he needed to drive him over the edge as well, and he shuddered and cried out in ecstasy.

They laid together in blissful satiation afterward, reveling in each other's presence and in the beginnings of their new relationship. For both, the hollowness they had felt in their lives was gone, replaced by the wholeness of love.


End file.
